


that dead zone

by tigerbox



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:52:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5154365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerbox/pseuds/tigerbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>raven leaves to search for the city of light. bellamy decides to follow even though he's not invited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that dead zone

-

 

When Raven announces that she's leaving Camp Jaha to move on to greener and bigger pastures, he doesn't try to stop her. It's not his place to.  
  
She's got fire in her eyes when she tells him, her tiny worn backpack already clinging to her shoulders, hair tied up in that resilient ponytail. She stares at him by the entrance of the camp,  _dare to get in my way_.  
  
He doesn't even bother to ask her where she's going.  
  
"The City of Light," she casually mentions, without being prompted, taking one last look back at the campgrounds, the people she's never going to see again.  
  
_Bellamy._  
  
"Where's your bodyguard? Wick?" Bellamy asks before she takes the first step out of Ark territory, her shoe squishing in the brown soaked mud.  
  
"I'm going solo. Just as it should be."  
  
  
  
  
Camp doesn't change without Raven, much like it didn't change when Clarke switched over to the Grounders side. People fight, they eat, they laugh, they plot, they sleep. Repeat cycle.  
  
For the first time in a while, Bellamy comes to the conclusion that he's useless. They've got the Chancellors in charge. Clarke's doing her own thing. Octavia's got Lincoln. And Raven's got herself.  
  
Bellamy watches Wick for a few days from a distance in the techie tent, pouring his muscles into picking up the slack of where Raven left off. Radio transmitters, electronic energy, nuclear bombs, radiation antidotes. There's stacks of it just waiting to be built at her desk, piles and piles of work loaded up. If Clarke had still been around as leader, she'd have made sure Raven had gotten everything done a long time ago. But not Bellamy.  
  
Between the time that passed post Mount Weather, he doesn't care about much.  
  
Wick catches him watching him on the third day outside the tent and flips Bellamy an outstretched middle finger along with a mutter of _'Go float yourself.'_  
  
  
  
  
It takes a couple of sleepless and unrelenting nights for him to finally catch up to her. For someone with such a massive disability, she makes it farther along The Dead Zone than he imagines, perching past the mine field on the highest dune. She's taken her leg brace off, sitting there with a handful of sand she keeps releasing down the sandy hills, watching the patterns of the sand disintegrating into the skyline below.  
  
"I don't know where I'm supposed to go," she doesn't bother looking up when he approaches her from behind. Literally no one for miles but somehow she's not scared to find out it's just him, just Bellamy. He supposes she recognizes the sweat filled stench he permeates from his journey or maybe his heavy breathing from running through the mines at such a rapid pace, so unbelievably lucky to be alive.  
  
"I thought you were a mirage from down there," he gestures back to where the mine sign sits, covered in a plethora of sand just like everything else around them. He feels delirious, dehydrated, and he lets a free finger linger around the tip of her cheekbone, just to make sure she's real. She flinches at his touch as if it physically hurts to not be in solitude anymore.  
  
"I'm fucking lost, Bellamy."  
  
"Let's just rest here a bit longer. Just a little bit."  
  
  
  
  
When Bellamy wakes up he's got his head in her lap and a parchment made of old labels covering his view.  
  
"I made a map," Raven is saying with familiar passion. He looks up to see her eagerness, eyes scouting past the dunes and past the line after line of solar ray panels lining the beach. "We just have to swim out to it."  
  
"You really think the City of Light is an actual place, Raven?" he remains a skeptic, only if to counter her and make her believe it more. She stands up, pushing him off her and makes her way down the sand dune in response. Bellamy packs their bags and grabs her brace that she leaves behind in afterthought.  
  
  
  
  
They find a boat and don't say a word while rowing, too caught up in the concept of open water, fresh droplets striking their faces like something holy. Bellamy thinks about the time up in the Ark before this when the idea of an ocean was just something nice to look at divided by space. Raven dips a careless hand into the roaming water, appreciating the roar of the waves and the calmness when it's still. She cups up some in her hands, closing her hands, dreaming of its taste.  
  
"Salt," Bellamy warns her and Raven snaps her hand back in the boat, looking ahead and anywhere but him. She might be the genius mechanic but he has reasoning.  
  
That's why he tags along, he convinces himself.  
  
  
  
  
There's no drones to follow them when they land on a beach. They both take off their shoes, enjoying the pure isolation, letting their toes curl into the sand, those familiar waves knocking up their jeans and past their ankles.  
  
Momentarily he forgets about what's on the other side of the water: war, anarchy, suppression, domination, blood, death, death, death.  
  
"Hey," he peers at Raven who looks just as scared as he feels, "We made it this far. To somewhere." He takes her into a loose hug, just close enough that his lips graze past her earlobes, close enough that her hair gets stuck on the strong line of his jaw.  
  
"Thanks for following me. I kind of knew you would," she says. She's still got that fire in her eyes, but a layer of vulnerability shows up in front of it, reminiscent of how she looked that one time she came to his tent pleading him to render her useless.  
  
"So where to now, Reyes?"  
  
Raven shifts out of his hold slowly, her smaller frame dependent on his grip but always game to play commander. She points to the coastline, dragging her finger north, curious to see how big this plot of land could truly be. Their new home away from home.  
  
"We're going to have many adventures together." she moves forward, trudging in the sand, this time remembering to glance back with a smile and grab Bellamy's hand in all fairness and equality, the harsh lines of his forefingers interlocking with the smoothness of hers.  
  
  
  
  
Sometimes when she's not paying attention, Bellamy lets a wandering thumb in their context of hand-holding brush against the back of her index finger in a dreamy circle, something to which Raven doesn't really resist.  
  
And then they walk some more.


End file.
